Spy Camp (m+f+/m+f+) Part 37

[GreyLord]

That did shed a lot of light. But it still leaves you, [mention]Beaumains[/mention], with seemingly endless options on how to proceed. I know that what follows will be as fascinating as what has come before. You are spinning a great story. Thank you.

[slackywacky]

> Giselle nodded, too proud to say “thank you.” She was familiar with psychologists and therapists.

I have to agree with Giselle. I am familiar with psychologists and therapists (with regards to my kids). Not sure they did more damage than good.
Interesting chapter, I wonder where this story will go. Like the others said, and you mentioned before, getting the back story out is not always easy, but I think you did a good job on this part.

[Beaumains]

Thanks for all the comments!

Honestly I don´t percieve Antoinette´s Intentions. She wants Giselle to rediscover the younger Giselle again - but to what purpose? She wants to contact Giselle again soon.

That Antoinette wants to make some form of atonements I do get. Seems all a bit mysterious to me. To exaggerate: Antoinette made Millions thanks to Giselle and all Giselle got is an invitation to Spy Camp .... Quite the atonement imho

I'm not good enough of a writer to write down all the details and feelings without writing a scientific paper on everyone's exact feelings and the exact events leading up to this.

Having witnessed your anger last Easter, the determination is still there, and I hope you turn it into positivity instead of resentment.

gives a decent hint why the usual conversation would not have worked. Where would you start when someone is not wanting to have contact and furious with you? Sure, against millions, the invitation is a bit of a stinker, but Giselle was never in it for the money, and her anger was also not from her missing out.

Just caught up with this story. Enjoying it heaps, keep up the good work.

It's good to see our protagonist getting some back story, I genuinely feel for her.

Thanks a lot! Great to see you on board.

> Giselle nodded, too proud to say “thank you.” She was familiar with psychologists and therapists.

I have to agree with Giselle. I am familiar with psychologists and therapists (with regards to my kids). Not sure they did more damage than good.

Yeah, for some people they are helpful, but I have also heard some awful stories about them. But that remark was not meant as a personal opinion or advice, just a way to describe Giselle's current state of mind: The feeling of no one taking her serious and despising being patronized by adults.

[Mineira1986]

That was revealing.

I understand Antoinette's motivation, but it does seem she doesn't know (the current version) of Giselle. Giselle has pretty much hated or disliked anything in the Spy Camp. Alas, it's good to have the answer to why Giselle was sent there.

And also a huge revelation of her backstory. It does seem that Giselle have issues with adults. In my experience, psychologist help, but like many professions, there are good professionals and bad professionals. And it gets tricky to find one that suits the patient's needs, in terms of knowledge, therapy, even personality.

Very cool how some of your stories manage to tackle serious issues (like in The Tangled Maiden) in a very natural way. Keep it up.

[Beaumains]

Very cool how some of your stories manage to tackle serious issues (like in The Tangled Maiden) in a very natural way. Keep it up.

Yeah, I tend to do that. Maybe I have written too many perfect characters already or only describing the bondage scenes does not bring me so much joy anymore. Hence, I try to add some realism. When telling such a story, it is hard not to consider the problems characters would face in real life. Many youngsters have mental health problems, social media have an impact, and for many their financial situation is important (for example, high rents and the push to make it big). It seems strange to me to write realistic characters now who are unaware of these things (even when a lot of stories here are do so). I think if there would be no ban on politics, I would address more of these things.

-------------------------------------------------------
“It’s such a bad idea, Priss, horrible. What’s going through your mind. Him? Seriously? You’re so much smarter than to fall for that,” Giselle confided to Spider Octopus opposite of her in the hamburger restaurant.

“So, Ginny, it’s simple. Love is complicated. He’s cute, okay? And I adore that,” the actress responded. She wore a layer of make-up, a red wig, and a thin white dress. With her little freckles, she looked pretty. Apparently, she had decided to call Giselle Ginny, only knowing Gigi was her nickname.

“Priscilla, listen: You can get any boy you want. Why Jason? He is weird. He is…”

“Honest and open.”

“No, no,” Giselle continued, grabbing Eight’s hand over the table. Around noon of the day of the big mission, they had been assigned to eavesdrop on the enemy at a local hamburger restaurant. Dallas had driven Giselle, Spider Octopus, Lionfish, and Red Deer to the cheap place as they were disguised in casual summer clothes. They had been given 50 dollars for food and quickly identified their targets, two men in their mid-twenties. Giselle and Eight had to provide the distraction while Lionfish and Red listened.

“Please! Jason is a total creep. Once you did everything in your power not to sit next to him in class. Or did you forget about 6th grade? Or the guinea pig incident in 4th grade?”

“He has changed! Middle school was ridiculous for us too. How many cringe-worthy things did you say? Hey? And people change. He has grown up.”

“He’s still a goofball. Seriously, have you ever seen his clothes?”

“What about it?” Eight replied. All was improv, but the twinkle in her eyes revealed she loved Giselle’s rant and rude questions. She enjoyed the battle of words and playing the stupid, naive girl.

“Always wearing these unfashionably bright colors: Red jeans, yellow trousers. Yikes. And his shoes are worn out. Can’t he buy new ones?”

“So? What’s your point? He’s also not on the football squad. Yeah, you like those big muscular guys, Ginny. I love that goofball. He is just unashamed and not falsely confident. He’s funny, gentle, and cuddly.”

“That’s what you do every evening? Cuddle? Watch movies? Crack jokes?” Giselle continued her rant as the waitress handed out the food and drinks, only now realizing how stupid she sounded. Eight had directed her to throw things at her and keep going.

“Yeah, what else? Oh, we also do our homework and play board games. Surprised? What else did you expect? Us scheming to take over the world?”

“Well, considering the weird shit usually spouting out of his mouth, a lot more.”

“Like?” Eight continued.

Giselle had talked herself into a corner and giggled to fill the time. Luckily, Red chimed in as the conversation had died. That was her task. “Two months back, he sat behind me during physics. Mr. Janzen was rambling about pulleys and ropes, and then Jason whispered something to Nick next to him. I was about ropes and kinda inappropriate.”

“What did he say?” Eight asked.

Giselle had hoped that Eight would give her time to take a bite of the small cheeseburger, but her reply had been short and instant. Red responded again. “That’s not something I should repeat here.” Next to them and their targets, there were a few others in the restaurant, and Giselle had noted a few stares already. Talking about bondage in public was weird.

“Come on, Millie, are you playing with me? Tell! Please.”

“Not here.”

Eight had forgotten about the mission and was only interested in Red’s response. “Then whisper it.”

Giselle had expected the most obscene bondage shit the magician’s daughter could envision. Or torture. Instead, Red told what their targets had been discussing: A prisoner was being transported out of the facility at night. Giselle assumed they had to free that person. How predictable.

However, Eight kept her eyes big and giggled as if Red had told a funny and embarrassing story.

“But that’s actually quite sweet, isn’t it?” Spider Octopus said.

“No, no, it is not, Priscilla. Can’t you see it?” Giselle bitched.

“What? You can be so dull at times, Gin. What’s the matter? He ties me up, sometimes, okay? And then we snuggle? I feel so safe in his arms, especially when I can’t do anything,” Eight continued, happy to talk about tie-ups. “Don’t give me that look! Or are you just jealous Mitch has the creativity of a brick?”

“No, no, I…”

“Okay, last night, he kept me tied to his bed as we watched that new superhero movie, and we snuggled. And then he released me in the morning.”

Giselle replied in disgust, and the two continued the discussion with all the awful details they could imagine. Priscilla was in a toxic relationship with Jason, but Eight did not let her notice it. Love made blind. Soon, half an hour had passed, and the two men had left for five minutes already. Lionfish had tried to enter the conversation but understood none of it as her focus had been elsewhere. Hence, they paid and left.

Dallas was still waiting inside the van, scrolling on her phone. Eight was still giggly and clung to Giselle, and Red and Lionfish were discussing all the details they had heard and penned them over in a notebook as they drove back.



“See ya later tonight,” Giselle shouted to Orlando as she jumped out of the van.

“You may hope so,” he replied as Eight lowered her on the small sandy road. In all black and wearing balaclavas, they were unrecognizable.

“Any guess why we were paired again?” Giselle asked her companion when the counselor had sped away. It was around nine in the evening, and the mission would culminate at the old factory. All the intel, weapons, and other advantages obtained during the day would be used to free the hostage and gather definitive information on the maneuvers of the seditious paramilitary group. A few campers coordinated from the office building communication and strategy, while most were involved in the ambush to free the hostage. Instead, Giselle and Spider Octopus had to be scouts together and were tasked to infiltrate the complex and obtain the group’s USB sticks and laptops.

“I don’t mind. It’s fun, and your intuition is perfect for this. It can’t go wrong.” Spider Octopus replied. “Or do you?”

“I don’t.”

“But?”

“You want the truth?” Giselle asked as they entered the dense forest they had to cross. The strap of her plastic laser gun hung over her shoulder. Only the heavy batteries of the laser-tag vest could slow her down. Dressed like special forces, being seen by a passer-by could end disastrously, so they had to remain far from the roads and trails on the private property.

“You wanted to be alone? I can understand that. I will try not to slow you down or be in your way. I promise.”

“It’s that they don’t trust me. Ibyx could do this alone. Ocelot is by himself. We are the only duo. Like I am less than them. That annoys me.”

“Yeah, I can understand. To tell the truth, I volunteered to join you as the commanders had these exact same doubts. You know, whether you would not chill by yourself the entire time. Sometimes you cannot be stopped, but if you are unmotivated, nothing will happen. Sorry to be this blunt, but that’s what they’re saying.”

“It’s fine. I can be snappy too. I’m not surprised, but it’s a shitty strategy. Better to spread the odds than get found both.”

Eight put a hand on Giselle’s shoulder. “You think it is better to split up?”

“Not yet,” Giselle replied.

“Great, then let’s stay together. That’s also more fun.” Eight pressed a button on the belt. “Swift Fox and Spider Octopus are moving to their target. We arrive in 30 minutes.”

“Copy that,” Bull Shark responded from the command center. Giselle heard it in her earpiece.

[slackywacky]

That was an interesting chapter. Giselle bitching? Wow. Like that never happens

Maybe she is wrong about Priscilla, maybe she is not. Time will tell I presume.

[Caesar73]

That was an interesting chapter. Giselle bitching? Wow. Like that never happens

Maybe she is wrong about Priscilla, maybe she is not. Time will tell I presume.

Indeed It will be interesting if the Mission is successfully completed

[Mineira1986]

The improvised conversation was very entertaining. Let's see how the mission goes.

[Beaumains]

Maybe she is wrong about Priscilla, maybe she is not. Time will tell I presume.

Priscilla is not a real person . Just a character made up on the spot to do the eavesdropping.

The improvised conversation was very entertaining. Let's see how the mission goes.

Thanks a lot!

------------------------------------------------------------

“Just jump, Eight,” Giselle hissed, lying in the bushes. “It’s only 6 feet. You can do it! Easily.”

On the other side of the fence and rotten creek, Spider Octopus knelt, hesitating. The brown water reeked as if all dirty creatures had assembled.

“Make it quick. The guards return in three minutes,” Bull Shark said over the radio. He watched them using a drone high in the sky. Giselle could not spot it.

Giselle encouraged the actress one final time before she spurted forward and took the leap of faith, jumping against the metal mesh. Like an insect caught in a spider’s web, she bungled against it, surprised her hands had held her. Due to the barbed wire, she had to climb down against the steep bank and go underneath. Giselle had spotted the small gap, and as all the regular entrances were guarded, this was the easiest option to enter the factory’s grounds.

“Find cover, now,” Bull Shark radioed unnecessarily. Eight was already nestled under the same bush as Giselle, squeaking her hand.

“Copy that. We will be silent for a few minutes,” Giselle replied. Despite the balaclava, she saw Eight’s smile as adrenaline rushed through her veins. Eight thanked her, saying she would never have done that herself, and apologized for slowing Giselle down. “It’s fine. Just remember, like locks, fences alone never stopped anyone who truly wanted in. They only show where it starts being illegal and how illegal it is. Also, always go for the most difficult fence as there won’t be much other security.”

“I ain’t you, Gigi,” Eight beamed. “Thanks for the information, but I doubt I’ll ever need it.”

“You never know.”

Eight held Giselle’s hand as a jeep sounded in the distance, driving around the compound’s outer perimeter. It was sweaty, and Giselle felt it pulse. As Bull Shark had announced, it followed the fence, and the girls were invisible. They were crouched together below a thick dark bush. When the coast was clear, the duo sneaked deeper inside the compound, finding a dense set of pine trees where they rested. The commanders had planned they advanced during daylight, but the real action would happen after sunset. During the ambush to free the hostage, the foreseen chaos would get them in and allow them to obtain their own objectives.

“Time to push to Point Lima,” Bull Shark said half an hour later. The sun had set, and in the control room, he was responsible for the four campers that would enter the factory. Ocelot and Ibex were both alone, and Giselle and Eight formed a pair. They proceeded to the last row of trees before a gap of about 150 feet to the impressive gray factory walls. Construction lights lit the grounds, preventing Giselle from seeing whether someone was watching from a window. “Be ready. The cars are approaching.”

The hostage was being brought in. At the entrance, the commanders had stationed most of their forces. Freeing them was the primary objective. Giselle did not know the exact plans as that information was unneeded.

“We are in position,” Eight replied two minutes later, finding the planned location where they could enter the concrete mega building. There was a small gap between the lights, and when Bull Shark gave the signal, they darted to the 6-feet high window, which would be their entry point. Eight used Giselle’s hand and shoulder as footholds to get up, and as she saw nobody, Eight climbed in as well. Some lights were lit, but the place was still mostly dark. Safe for one flashlight in the distance, it seemed deserted. It was beautiful.

Using a prepared route, they made their way to the fourth floor using some convenient yet non-conspicuous ladders in one of the main rooms. The two girls kept a distance between them as being together had seemed unnecessarily risky to Giselle. She led the way, and Spider Octopus covered her back. “Closing in on Target Foxtrot. Should we act?” she queried Bull Shark.

“Go ahead. However, it is not going well,” Bull Shark said as they approached their first target. “We are taking heavy losses. It’s a bloodbath. Too many snipers. Grab it, and then we will provide further orders.”

“Copy that,” Eight replied, and she entered the room while Giselle remained outside. This turned out to be a wise decision. She had walked through an invisible laser. Both had not bothered to check and were neither aware of the possibility. No alarm sounded, so Eight walked in, grabbed the bag, returned, and gave it to Giselle. Willet had put her in command, even though the actress would have listened regardless.

“Hands up! On your knees! NOW!” A man screamed when Giselle rounded a corner. Only then she realized there had been an alarm and maybe even CCTV. From a corner, he approached her, and shenanigans were out of the question. Washington had said that dying (being killed by a laser gun) would lead to a harsher punishment than surrendering. The 1 percent probability to become a hero was not worth it. She complied. No one was there to see it.

“Got her, east corridor, 4th floor,” the man radioed to his crew. The first word gave Giselle hope. He was only aware of one of them.

While a laser gun was pointed at her vest, the man pulled the weapon hanging over her shoulder over her head, as he had not noticed Eight. The radio remained silent, so Eight was likely close, and no other bad guy was approaching. She should take the shot. This was the exact reason they had walked spaced out. “Come on, come on…”

Giselle let him bind her hands behind her back. It was tight. “Now, now, what do we have here? Another little squirrel sneaking inside? Any ideas about what became of your friends? You miss them, don’t you? No worries. I will reunite you soon,” he boasted, and Giselle had to suppress her urge to tell him personal hygiene existed. He put some ill-tasting cloth in her mouth before his vest flared bright red. He was dead.

“That took you way too long,” Giselle said when Eight appeared and removed the ropes. Giselle bagged them. The man, being dead, was not allowed to communicate anymore. Giselle took her weapon and Eight the bag before the two darted away. “They have seen me,” Giselle said over the radio. “Gotta run. Moving north.” The fact the man had captured her remained unmentioned.

“Copy that, Swift Fox. Try to hide again. The rest failed massively. Ibex is caught. Macaw will most likely decide you should retreat soon.”

The fact that only Macaw was mentioned meant that the other commanders could not decide. They were dead or captured.

They had studied the factory’s map for hours. Although only Giselle’s second visit, she knew where she wanted to go and did not require directions. The office spaces were mostly empty, so she returned to the factory part, with its many large machines, conveyor belts, and pipes. Hiding there would be easy. A shoot-out would not mean being trapped.

Eight followed her footsteps closely as she made the left and right turns as if running through her childhood home. She found the little passageways no logical person would use (which was a good reason for Giselle) and avoided all likely traps. The dead man had been found, and they were being hunted. There was shouting once every and sometimes flashlights in the distance, but they bypassed all.

That was until it went wrong.

Again.

“Retreat. I repeat, retreat,” Macaw spoke over the radio as Giselle neared her mark. On the first floor were many ovens and 15-feet high containers for chemical substances, close to Target Echo. In the photos, it was massive, and all the pipes created a natural playground. You could hide an elephant there, and it would take minutes to find it. And Giselle wanted to see that place as well.

But then she had to reroute, spinning all the gears in her head. They ran to the West gallery on the third floor, where Giselle heard footsteps. They stepped into a room, but their footsteps had been perceived too. A woman called over the radio.

The room was almost empty and had one door. The two campers shoveled to a corner, aiming their weapons at the open door, where Giselle reached a window. There was no way to climb down. They were stuck. “Let me try something,” Giselle whispered before climbing out of the window.

The old hinges of the shutters were still there, the outside here consisted purely of brick, but there was no obvious hold. She stepped outside on the window sill, rolling the rope around the old hinges. She pulled herself up, grabbed a thin ledge, and putting legs on the rope loop.

“Can you go anywhere?” Eight said.

“I doubt.”

“We are in trouble,” Eight told Bull Shark over the radio, handing Giselle the bag as she took cover behind some barrels.

Their opponents seemed to understand the situation as well and waited outside. “Come out with your hands up. Else, we might feel forced to use violence. It’s over. Surrender now!” the woman shouted.

Eight remained silent and fired her weapon at the first opportunity. Later, Giselle learned they carried shields to block the lasers. It was beyond bad.

[GreyLord]

Fascinating as always. Good work.

[Caesar73]

Excellent as usual .... Giselle and Eight seemed to have failed in their mission. I wonder what the consequences may be for Giselle - in the short and in the long term.

[Beaumains]

Excellent as usual .... Giselle and Eight seemed to have failed in their mission. I wonder what the consequences may be for Giselle - in the short and in the long term.

It's not over yet

--------------------------------------------------------------

The door opened, and the enemy stormed in. They had waited a few minutes for reinforcements, and Eight had been unable to find an exit and had refused to share the spot with Giselle. They were trapped. Giselle still hid outside the room, balancing on the rope tied around the surviving metal hinges.

“Stop shooting! Drop your weapon and show your hands! You stand no chance,” a man shouted.

Giselle did not reply, and neither did Eight.

“This is your final opportunity,” he shouted as footsteps closed in. They had to carry shields to block Eight’s shots like a wacky video game. Else, someone would have died by now. The situation was helpless for Eight, and so she decided to surrender.

“Good, good. Now step forward, slowly.”

Giselle’s heart stopped for a second. It was over. Without wind, every sound inside the building was clearly audible. Eight had to kneel. “Seven people? I am impressed. All to take me down while stuck in this room. Almost pathetic.”

Smart. Spider Octopus warned Giselle how many people she had to eliminate. Or was it a warning to stay hidden?

“We got some people to spare. Not many of you remain. Hands behind your back.”

“Whatever you want, man,” Eight replied, complying. The room was searched, and the window sills were checked. Giselle pulled her legs up, and seeing no legs, the intruders left. They had missed her.

The man continued his interrogation. “You’re a talker, aren’t you? Then tell me what you know, and your life here will be slightly less annoying.”

“You won. That’s all.”

“Of course, we won. But now tell me: How many of you little rascals are inside?”

“If you stop pushing me to the ground, I might tell you, creep. There is no need to be this aggressive. Due to that idiot behind me, my hands will die off in fifteen minutes.”

“Well, well, my lady. You creep in, so you should be happy you aren’t being waterboarded right now. Or would you prefer that? I can arrange that easily. Go along and be as honest as you would be to your diary.”

“And what’s in it for me?” Spider Octopus continued to argue from her awful position. She was pushed over and hogtied. Giselle was convinced she would not sell her out and had to make her own lie convincing. She had created room for negotiation, and although their enemy did not offer much and was far from trustworthy, it was her best option. The promise of a private room and a real bed made her spill the beans: “There were four of us. You got two already, I reckon, two guys. The other girl has stolen a backpack with a laptop and a few hard drives. She was making her way out. A few minutes ago, she switched to a private channel as I was likely to be caught.”

“Where is she now? What is her private frequency?”

“We split up after she got the backpack. I heard she left the building just before contact was cut. I don’t know her private frequency. She should be crossing the fence by now. Soon, all that information on that laptop will be public. Brace yourself. So, I warn you, you get caught tomorrow or have to run off like the felon you are.”

“We will see, we will see,” the man laughed. He liked she went along with the C-movie scenario. “Bring her away!”

Some people left, but Giselle knew she was not out of the water yet. On the contrary, one cough could ruin her night and worsen Eight’s. She entered her private frequency on the radio, knowing she could not use it without making a sound. She was on her own, sticking to a wall many feet above the ground. Looking inside the room would be stupid as the lights on the roof would make her head stick out like a silhouette. She had to wait. Dropping her legs to the rope, she stood firmly, ready to not give up.

“Any update, Swift Fox?” Bull Shark asked. It hurt her she could not reply.

A few more minutes passed by. Someone walked by on the grass behind Giselle, but they did not see the person in black clamped against the wall. The walls were in her favor for once.

Then a barrel of a weapon appeared two windows further. It was longer than Giselle’s small assault weapon, so a sniper.

“No one in sight,” the young man remarked. For a second, Giselle assumed it was into his radio, but then another voice spoke.

“Do you believe her?” a female voice mumbled.

“Sort of. But if this year is like ours, some lone wolves are sent in for a last-ditch effort. They should try that, I reckon. They had some internal scrambles, and we have got the most eager already, so they might not be too motivated. What’s your intuition? Will they try?”

“I would be disappointed if they wouldn’t try,” the woman spoke. “I know one this year’s quite well, and she hasn’t been caught. Sneaking in here at night should be right in her alley.”

Giselle’s jaw dropped, and anger formed. She called herself stupid for falling for not anticipating this. She expressed it by gripping the rope tightly. Antoinette was twelve feet away. Some former campers acted as opponents for a day, and if Giselle had realized this, understanding that the letter had been step 1 in her reconciling effort. Without this coincidence, she would have walked right into this trap. Instead of being furious with Washington, she should use this knowledge to plan ahead.

“You got someone into the camp? Awesome. Someone from Youtube?”

“Yeah, Gigi. She was with WeWereThere at the start. She was the young girl, remember?”

“Oh, that’s so cool. Yeah, someone like Gigi definitely deserves to be here. Oh, well, maybe there are not many with her talents. That’s scary. Didn’t Gigi take so many risks and beat you always in hide and seek?”

“Yeah. Gigi is either already inside or distrusts the current commanders and refuses to sacrifice herself,” Antoinette said about the girl on the other side of the wall. “Or she is the one having stolen the backpack. If Gigi is still inside, there is no point in searching for her. She understands how normal people read a room and will find the one obvious spot everyone will miss. Then we have to wait until she triggers an alarm.” Giselle hatred that old nickname.

“You know we are not allowed to meta-game.”

“True, that’s why I didn’t interfere with that interrogation or go against the orders. Just keep on the lookout and let them trigger the alarms. If you get them running, you can scoop them up. Patrolling gives them opportunities for traps. That girl already killed one. It could be a long night, so I am convinced it isn’t over yet. Although some of the boys have cracked open a few beers already.”

“Obviously. So will Gigi strike? How’s she doing, by the way?”

Giselle smiled. This answer would tell her a lot about Antoinette.

“We’re actually not as close anymore. Giselle was doing well so far, among the best but was still struggling with the bondage aspect.”

“So you’re kinda the same? Doing well while fearing the punishments,” the guy replied. Thus, Antoinette had been handed all the cards while Giselle got none. How unfair. But knowing she had a disadvantage made it already smaller. Antoinette would not get whatever she wanted, and Giselle would not allow her to run her over. Again.

“I think she will adapt quickly. If she is inspired, no one can stop her. Else, you won’t see her. That she was not involved in that big encounter tells me enough.”

The stupid voice in her head told her to come around the corner and shoot the duo. It might not endanger the mission, although there was a risk. However, this information and the fact Antoinette was unaware of her knowing it was far more important. Giselle stayed where she was to show she was still better at these games after all these years and beat her. Willet had told her she was up against former military, but former campers were beatable. It was worth the risk of ending up in the same hogtie as Eight. After all, her sacrifice should not be in vain.

[Caesar73]

You are quite right [mention]Beaumains[/mention] - it is not over yet Very nice turn. It seems Antoinette is not as clever as she thinks or ... nicely done Giselle so far! She stayed in the shadows - and gathered valuable information. I like all the twists and turns!

[GreyLord]

I say three times: Go, Giselle, go!

[Lucky Lottie]

I've really come to care for Giselle. Such a great character to follow. I hope she blows everyone's expectations out the water.

[Beaumains]

It seems Antoinette is not as clever as she thinks or ...

Remember that you only know Giselle's perspective, and she's far from unbiased. Giselle may call it traps and tries to outsmart her, but we don't know yet whether that was Antoinette's plan.

I've really come to care for Giselle. Such a great character to follow.

Thank you so much. That's so kind. At least my mission is accomplished.

[Mineira1986]

Ah yes, I expected Antoinette to make an appearance, but wasn't expecting to see her so soon. I wonder how that meeting will go. Will it be with both untied? Will Antoinette be tied up? Will Giselle? Maybe both?

Great story, as always.

[Beaumains]

Ah yes, I expected Antoinette to make an appearance, but wasn't expecting to see her so soon. I wonder how that meeting will go. Will it be with both untied? Will Antoinette be tied up? Will Giselle? Maybe both?

I had not even considered tie-ups during that meeting. I am not sure whether it fits the tone of the story.

Yeah, the pacing of the story is not great, and I should have written more about Giselle in earlier chapters. Ah well, that happens when writing a chapter and then post it. Then you can't expect perfectly paced foreshadowing and a proper build up of the story and characters.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, yeah, I am glad the others are doing publicity while I am here. Interviews and podcasts are always so draining,” Antoinette told the unnamed sniper. “But it’s great to be back in the States. I missed not being immediately recognized as a tourist. Next month, we go to Alaska. We were there a few years back, but some old mines and epic places remain to be explored.”

Hearing Antoinette for an hour straight had been painful. She had talked about the two-month work trip to Europe. They had toured the Baltics, Poland, Hungary, and Albania, all having so many cool things Giselle had dreamed of exploring one day. Giselle clicked the button of her radio thrice, an improvised signal to notify the command center she was still there.

“Still stuck?” Macaw asked. Nothing else was left to do, so she joined Bull Shark in overseeing Giselle. The few survivors had decided not to go in again.

Giselle responded with two clicks, affirming the suggestion.

“Remember, we stay here. If you need anything, ask. When you get the chance, leave with the bag.”

The order had been repeated a dozen times by now. Giselle responded with two more clicks and focused on the only noteworthy question in her life: “When did those idiots leave?” Her arms and legs ached from the monotonous position, and being three stories up, she wanted to get out within half an hour. She was still making up her mind about whether she should kill the babbling duo.

“Copy that,” Antoinette said on her radio minutes later. “We’ll be there in five minutes.”

Sadly, Giselle had overheard only fragments of the entire defensive plan, but as the door closed, she communicated the update. She crept towards the hallways, weapon aimed forward. Macaw had come up with the same hypothesis as her: They did not expect anyone still inside, and if anyone was there, their eventual move would betray them.

“I’m on the third floor, West Gallery.”

“Move down. The machine room has many ladders and is almost completely dark. Ocelot mentioned the South side had a doable fence.”

“Agreed,” Giselle copied. She had to find a way out and one-shot the attempt. The perimeter was the most heavily guarded. Any trespassers had to cross some open areas. She could almost freely move elsewhere but was far more cautious this time. The factory felt deserted once more, but knowing that there were laser traps and cameras near the targets and scattered elsewhere, she took no risks. The opponents also played the waiting game and would keep an eye out. In this game, sitting still meant you would see the other person first. Giselle avoided the main hallways, skirted the edges of the rooms, and used windows when available.

Luckily, that sequence of choices was short as Giselle soon reached the massive machine room, where steel beams, pipes, high walkways, and gigantic vats made an adult playground for those who were not stuck-up and dull. It looked even better in the dark, and the purple spotlights hanging from the ceiling provided an ominous glow. This was the good life.

From atop a giant tank, possibly for sulfuric acid or another nasty chemical, Giselle spotted an unexpected sight in the distance. 200 feet away and 30 below, she saw people. A nightmare, her way out was blocked. Two of those idiots were clad in camouflage and held big guns. Their heads and faces were covered, but Giselle still noted they looked in another direction. She lowered herself and whispered into the radio. When she refound her courage, she looked again, spotting the wooden chair between the men. A woman sat on it. No, she was bound to it. Around her head, two strips of orange cloth were tied, a blindfold and a gag, holding whatever these bastards had propped into her mouth. Ropes fixed her arms to the armrests, and her ankles were bound together and pulled under the chair. A pink, heart-shaped travel pillow supported her neck. She wore black pants and a black laser-game vest. “Eight…” Giselle mumbled under her breath.

“Careful, Swift Fox,” Macaw stated over the radio before Giselle added the new information.

“I doubt that’s one of ours. That’s the hostage,” Macaw guessed, hearing the situation. “Captured campers are out of the game. There’s no reason to single out one, so I doubt it is Spider Octopus. How certain are you?”

“Not at all. It’s far.” This news disappointed Giselle. The girl was small and had brown hair, but she could not convince herself it was Eight. The light, distance, gag, and blindfold made this impossible. Then she realized the hostage made sense: No one would be held here for no good reason. The opposition wanted to give the failing campers one last chance to win, so they created this opportunity. How pathetic.

“Would you be able to observe the situation for a minute, Swift Fox?” Macaw asked. “Try to estimate the probability you will succeed in freeing her. It’s no more than fair you get the final call. Please, don’t hesitate to decline, but it would be tremendous if you could save us.”

Of course, she meant her own position as a commander. The complete failure of an operation would demote the commander trio. They deserved it, even though Macaw claimed that the ambush’s survivors were all friends of Tarantula and had not put in much effort. Giselle couldn’t care less. There was an appeal to show off and take the risk. Success would kill all doubts about her ability and make people respect her. Then they might keep her out of all the bullshit.

“I deem 80% to free her, a lot less to get out.”

Giselle climbed down and sneaked to another corner. There were only two opponents here. Actually, for them, it had to be quite pathetic to be standing there like an NPC waiting to be shot. She predicted a trap, but Antoinette had spoiled that they were not allowed to metagame. Hence, why would two people give up their real life? The protection consisted of only two men, expecting nobody would sneak through their entire line of defense before reaching them.

For fifteen minutes, Giselle observed, letting Bull Shark time the regular intervals between their radio communication and being very careful there were exactly four people in the room.

“So, what’s your choice?” Macaw asked, and she got two clicks in return. “Awesome. The best of luck, Swift Fox.”

Giselle crept forward behind the men, who appeared jolly and joking. Soon, they learned that Swift Fox had been 50 feet further, popping her gun around an old oil barrel.

“All good, nothing to report,” one opponent radioed, giving Giselle a 3-minute window before an unanswered radio message would signal their dreadful fates. Two shots on the first and two on the latter engulfed the bound hostage in red light and caused unholy words spoken by others than Giselle for once.

She rushed in and pulled on the ropes around her arms. They were actually tied. Fuck.

“Do you have a knife?” she asked the baffled man, and one nodded, telling her he preferred doing it himself and cutting through it like butter. The hostage took her blindfold off and stood up, shaking. Then she took some earplugs out. She had to be confused.

“Let’s go,” Giselle hissed, handing her a weapon belonging to one of the fallen. She spurted away before the girl could start her thankful monologue. No time for bullshit NPC talk. The hostage was likely a former camper herself, despite having to pass for the kidnapped child of whatever industrialist. Not wanting to poke her fingers in a stranger’s mouth, she let the hostage remove the gag as they jogged to an exit. A crazy amount of wet cloth fell onto the ground, and if the hostage had been detesting it, she would not have done this for a dumb summer camp. She was a weirdo.

“Three minutes are up,” Bull Shark told over the radio as they left the machine room and entered a hallway. A nearby open window would be their exit.

“Very well,” Giselle replied. “We’re exiting the building.” She hung from the window frame and dropped into grassy bushes. “Come on! Hurry!” she decried. The hostage, with her brown, wavy hair and weary eyes, looked down. She already wore a laser game vest, so they had anticipated such a scenario.

“How high is that drop?”

“Only 10 feet or so. It’s jump or die,” was needed to persuade the girl, and agitated, Giselle crossed the lit border into a forested area behind the factory. Only a fence was left.

Then an alarm sounded. It was not very loud but pushed a new wave of adrenaline through the teen’s veins. She turned around and cursed. She had to wait five seconds on her companion as they traversed a large sloped concrete slap. A sniper could strike at any moment. “Two more minutes before reaching the gap.”

Eight had been an annoyance, being slower, louder, and less aware, but this hostage was a headache. A voice in Giselle’s head told her to turn around, shoot her, and blame a sniper. An engine already sounded in the distance. Multiple.

A woman shouted in the distance as Giselle spotted the gravel road parallel to the fence. It took her a few seconds to orientate herself in the pitch-black. The hole she had found for Eight and her was close by. She darted further, surprised that the incapable hostage could run, but headlights emerged.

“Here’s the hole. Climb under and then jump,” Giselle told the scared girl. Giselle suspected her of acting it up for “realism.” What a pain in the ass. The cars were closing in. Then the girl jumped, landing knee-deep in the water and struggling to climb the muddy banks. “Grab this and get out,” Giselle hissed, throwing her radio and stolen backpack. She turned around. Three cars had stopped, and she nestled behind a tree trunk next to the road. Another car chased around the other side of the fence, but surprisingly, no red flared up.

“Come out with your hands in the air. Both of you!” A man screamed. “Ten guns are aimed at your position. No sudden movements. You have ten seconds.”

Fighting to death was an option, but a foolish one.

“Eight, seven,”

It was all over.

“Four, three,”

Giselle stood up, and as promised, an entire squad of douchebags aimed at her. Two green lasers from snipers were aimed at her chest. She raised her weapon, dropped it on the ground like on TV, and kept her arms up.

“Where is she?”

“Let’s negotiate about that,” Giselle replied. They had not seen the former hostage’s dash to the tree line. Giselle had to buy her time. “She is down here with a few grenades. Make a sudden movement, and many here will die or lose limbs.” The improv acting was stupid. Save from some smoke grenades, the threat was non-existent.

“What?”

“You need her alive. Hard to prove some random spy did that. And your men fancy their lives too, don’t they?”

“What do you want!”

“Some respect. Already, allies smuggled a laptop out with proof of your crimes. It was easy to crack. By sunrise, you will be fugitives. Free us, and the government might spare your head. Your guns point at me as a bomb drops from the sky. You are …”

“Stop it. Walk forward. Slowly.”

“First, remove those guns from my chest.” Every second counted. The man waived them away. Giselle shuffled forward, had to kneel, and was patted down.

“She is not here!” a female voice shouted, and Giselle could not help to laugh. The man pushed her to the ground, angry she had bullshitted him, and four opponents taped her up. Arms bent behind, legs together, and a rope pulled down behind her to form a hogtie. She was blindfolded, gagged with more tape, and a handkerchief pressed into her mouth and blindfolded. She was loaded on a jeep and driven away. Her mission was over.

“So close, but so far away. We’ll find that poor little girl,” a woman voiced. She petted Giselle’s shoulder, and she was unable to do anything. She was tied up and captured like a total loser. “Your sacrifice was so brave, admirable, but so wasteful. You should have left, sweetie. We ain’t too kind to murderers.” She pulled Giselle’s legs further back. “It can be tight, you know? And you hate that, don’t you? You will sing like the cute little angel your parents always think you are.”

[Lucky Lottie]

I think you've done a very good job with Gisele. Perhaps the back story was a little late but I can't think of too many stories where I actually feel bad when they get tied up.

She clearly doesn't like the bondage aspect and it's funny how much I emphasise with that through her eyes.

Good job.

[GreyLord]

This was a very good chapter, @Beaumains. The tension in the game had a realistic feel to it. Giselle if immersed in the role play. I don't think you made any mistake introducing her background when you did.

[Beaumains]

I will be going on vacation for a few weeks, so this will be the last update for quite a while.

Perhaps the back story was a little late but I can't think of too many stories where I actually feel bad when they get tied up.

She clearly doesn't like the bondage aspect and it's funny how much I emphasise with that through her eyes.

Yeah, it is hard to make Giselle suffer too much now. but I will promise she will be tied during most of the upcoming chapters.

Actually, she is starting to be okay with the bondage part, or at least made peace with it. A few times, I have pointed out she was able to relax while tied. She only gets afraid when she gets into an unfamiliar situation or has mistrusts. It's hard to be open for new experiences when you are afraid.

The tension in the game had a realistic feel to it.

Thanks a lot!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wakey, wakey, sweetheart,” a female voice whispered in Giselle’s ear, far within her personal space. The same lady had been in the squad that captured her that night.

Giselle was too confused to grumble: “fuck off.” Her fixed arms reminded her of her situation: She was caught during the mission at the last moment before becoming the victorious hero. She had been taped up and driven deep inside the facility. There she had endured a short interrogation before she was allowed to use the toilet, brush her teeth, and go to bed. Giselle had deduced they had not wanted to keep her awake far past midnight when all other campers were already asleep.

Of course, knowing Spy Camp, Giselle was unable to leave. She had expected a jail cell or chains to keep her from walking away, but it had been more serious. “Medical restraints, especially for you. You seem too eager to escape. Tomorrow, I will teach you how to talk,” the woman had promised.

The evil opponents treated Giselle like a patient at a modern mental institute with lazy employees unwilling to see anything but deranged, dangerous individuals. Plastic bands kept her pinned to the bed in a military sleeping position. She lay on her back and wore a soft, long-sleeved pajama. Being blindfolded since her capture, she had no idea what color it was, but she imagined bright orange like a prison uniform. Her ankles were a foot apart, with towel-like objects around them to protect them from the harsh plastic straps. Her upper legs, hips, and wrists befell the same fate. Due to a cross of straps over her chest and shoulders, she could barely lift her neck. Nothing hurt or pressed, but all kept her down as if she was petrified.

It was hopeless. Attacking the bonds was impossible, let alone beating them. Walking up the concrete wall of a massive dam was more straightforward. The lack of opportunity had ended Giselle’s stream of adrenaline, and her muscles had relaxed, aching from the hanging and running. Her head had been heavy, and her mind had slowed down. Soon, she had entered a deep, dreamless sleep.

That was until the woman woke her up. “It’s time to wake up, sleepyhead,” she giggled, picking away the still tucked-in blanket. It had not been able to move all night. “Time for you to sing like a little bird.”

“Get new material,” Giselle yawned. It could be 6 PM or 10 PM. Giselle had no clue. “You said the same yesterday. Twice.”

Celeste’s fingers ran over Giselle’s shoulders, neck, cheeks, and nose. “Got your nose, tho. Want it back? Then you’ll have to sing like a little bird. And yeah, I said it. Again. Oopsie. You have a more severe problem than me repeating dialogue. What are you going to do, complain?” Her voice was crisp and velvety.

“Complaining is one of my specialties. I will leave a review online about my tormentor. You get 3 out of 5 stars, I warn you. Two, if your attitude does not improve. I always introduce myself first. So, what’s your name?”

“How cute. You should know I am ruthless and despised, so three stars would improve my average. Clients despise what I do to make them spill their guts. You can call me Celeste,” the woman rejoiced. She scratched Giselle’s neck, clearly trying to intimidate her. Giselle had already figured out she could not resist. She was tied up. “Now it is your turn, my little hatchling. Who are you? Who are you working for? What was your mission last night?”

Giselle remained silent. Celeste’s perfume smelled like nuts.

“Lost your voice? Speak. Your naive colleagues kindly told me many things, so any wild story means some extra punishment. Your code name is Swift Fox.”

Giselle sighed and obeyed. She had heard Eight yesterday and knew which lies slipped through. Hence, Giselle explained she had dropped off the backpack and returned to free the hostage. She kept it simple and factual, but when Celeste wanted to know where the industrialist’s daughter, the hostage, now was, Giselle had to admit she did not know. But, she deduced the naive girl made it out against all odds.

Giselle’s concentration remained high, and her mind was sharp. A few days back, she had survived torments while strapped to a bed frame. That test of her mental power was much rougher. Being tied, blindfolded, and interrogated was no longer scary but a careful battle of words and wills. Giselle knew tickling or ice would not break her, and this lady could not do much worse. She was prepared. Only her answers did not anger Celeste, who spared her from the worse.

“Good, good, my dear fledgling. Your parents should be proud. Well, not because you break the rules and are our favorite prisoner, but because you are not a liar. They raised you well. They would love to see their beautiful daughter back. I mean, not in a coffin. So many baby birds die young, and you might survive. How adorable. One day I will unshackle you so you can spread your wings. It won’t matter in the greater scheme of things, just like you, my darling. Your lovely parents will not…”

“Stop talking about my parents!” Giselle interjected. She felt tears building in her eyes. “Please.”

“Not about your parents? Puberty is crashing down? Issues with mammy and daddy? How interesting, I recall mine. You outgrow them. I think that…”

“I MEAN IT. STOP.” The sound echoed. They were underground.

“Well, well, I touched a sore spot? Did I hit a raw nerve?”

“STOP IT, YOU BITCH. I SAID NO.” Giselle had lost it but regretted her choice of words. Celeste pressed a rubber ball into her mouth and strapped it around her neck.

“I’ll let you calm down for a second,” Celeste declared. The playfulness was gone. A door closed, and Giselle was alone again. Alone on the bed, she was attached to. Alone, blind, and gagged. Celeste was rude, but she could not have known that. It was part of these weird games. She did her job but approached Giselle from the wrong angle. Eight loved these improv battles, and Red also expressed interrogations were fun.

Twenty minutes later, a finger touched Giselle’s shoulder and moved under her neck. She lifted it, allowing it to undo the clicking mechanism of the gag.

“Morning, Giselle, Ithaca here,” the camp counselor said. Hearing her real name surprised Giselle. Ithaca was serious. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Could you explain what happened?”

Giselle did so. “And then I said something I shouldn’t have,” she added. “I was panicking.”

“I understand. It’s all good. To remind you, you have safe words. You can say “orange” when someone crosses a limit. Okay? Celeste did not know this and thought you were playing along. The rest of your conversation signified you were relaxed and willing to play, so it took her a moment to realize.”

“Okay, sorry. I did not mean it.”

Ithaca’s hand grabbed Giselle’s. “Of course not, I know that. You did so well yesterday. Try not to do it again. Okay?” Giselle confirmed that. “Can I give you a hug? You deserve one.”

Giselle nodded, and Ithaca lowered herself onto the bed, found a way to wrestle her arm behind Giselle’s pinned body, and lay down. “You’re doing amazing, Swift Fox. Keep it up,” she whispered in Giselle’s ear. She got up. “Are you fine with Celeste finishing the interrogation? Or is it too much? I can also stay in the room if you prefer that.”

“I would be blindfolded anyways. That wouldn’t matter,” Giselle replied. Celeste was not an awful person, and being the only person too cowardly and unhinged for a little stressful roleplay was not a reputation she wanted. “I can do it.”

“Very cool. I trust you. Open your mouth,” Ithaca said while putting the ball gag back in. It felt nastier than the last time as Giselle tasted her own drool on it. “Remember your safewords. They make sure no one here has a bad time. Use them when necessary.”

[GreyLord]

This just keep getting more and more fun, @Beaumains. Great work.

Have a great time on your vacation.

[Mineira1986]

That was fun to read. Fun and informative, in terms of the use of safe words. Let's see how much Giselle can take.

[Beaumains]

Thanks for the comments, guys!

----------------------------------------

Celeste had finished interrogating Giselle. “Time for you to join your awful crony friends,” she scuffed, throwing her onto the ground covered with soft mats. Celeste removed the hood covering her head, stepped away, and slammed the door shut behind her before Giselle had digested her whereabouts.

The white walls and ceiling, cyan gym mats, red cushions on the ground, and teens sprinkled throughout would not shock anyone. Only the two handfuls of campers wore dark blue jumpsuits that acted as straitjackets, binding their arms to their bellies. Build-in straps kept their ankles and knees together, but strangely, they did not care. They relaxed, save for two giggling boys in a corner. Red Deer rested her head on Bulldog’s chest and was asleep while he yawned at the ceiling.

“Oh no, you’re here too?” Willet whispered as she wormed towards Giselle, being the closest. “We hoped for a miracle.”

“I fucked up. Sorry,” Giselle snapped. Air rushed next to her head.

“Silence, prisoners,” a man shouted from above, pointing a Nerf gun through a window two stories higher. A black balaclava covered his head like a dollar-store special forces imposter.

Willet snickered. “Oh, yeah, keep it down. Also, don’t stand up or get to your knees. We’re stuck here for the day, so take it easy. We lost and have a price to pay.” She explained everyone here had surrendered and thus had to survive a lighter regime than those who had not survived the shoot-outs. “It’s doable today, so I expected we had done well somehow, achieving a few objectives. But nope, it seems we have lost so big they’re merciful. That’s a shame.”

“I did my best,” Giselle hissed. “Sorry you will get demoted, but I can’t carry the bloody universe on my back.”

Despite the outburst, Willet smiled. She had digested the complete and utter failure already. “Washington would punish us anyhow after that disaster. With the support from the group, we needed a clean sweep, so we’re getting new commanders anyhow. But it also has consequences for you. We also get less as a group. You know, our ‘agency’ gets less funding. So, more basic meals, fewer excursions, and no awesome unique tutors. But no worries, there’s nothing less to do.” They met eyes and nodded. All was lost, or at least Giselle did not want to create false hope.

“Fox, no. Please don’t say they caught you too,” a honey-sweet voice behind Giselle muttered. Eight had traversed most of the rolling and squirming in the bonds. “I thought we would do it. Eh, I mean you… I believed you had a chance, especially when no one was being brought in for hours.”

“Hey,” was Giselle’s only reply. Spider Octopus pulled off the awful outfit and looked fresh after a horrid night. Giselle had decided not to give everyone hope. The hostage should have been caught minutes after her. “I got close, but there’s no price for that. Let’s discuss it later.”

Willet agreed. “Better don’t give a reason for another interrogation.”

Giselle noticed Eight blush. “I didn’t go through that for nothing. I did not break,” the actress said, causing even more question marks in Giselle’s head. “I got the drowning game and won,” she added, explaining that she had to speak the truth if she bailed out and thus reveal Giselle’s location. After the tickling in the factory Giselle had heard, Eight had been subjected to the proper interrogation. Her head had been dunked underwater for increasing durations, up to two minutes. She held a ball, and dropping it would save her but compel her to tell everything. The actress’ jubilous joy was all-telling. “It was scary and intimidating. Not being able to breathe freely is horrifying, but I endured, knowing it could save the mission.”

Giselle apologized. Such a scene was expected in a Cold War movie, not a children’s summer camp. “I did not know that. Shit. Sorry, you had to go through that.”

“Don’t say that. I won. That feels incredible! I hadn’t done that without you and had no clue how long they would keep going. I wanted to quit badly and panicked but continued. Thanks.”

“Eh, you are welcome? I guess. It’s a shame it didn’t matter.”

“No, no, that doesn’t matter. Who cares anyway about the mission? That wouldn’t make much difference, would it? It made me push a personal boundary. So thanks. Yesterday night I will never forget. I truly felt like a spy. When acting on a set, you convince yourself it is real, but now it is authentic.”

Giselle was speechless. She had done nothing but let Eight tag along and sacrifice herself. The actress had apparently had the night of her life as Giselle still fell shit about the final split-second decisions of her mission. And Giselle did not have to suffer the barbaric water torment, which Celeste would have canceled after her early outburst.

“Hug?” Spider Octopus asked, and Giselle allowed the most complicated embrace of her life. Or, well, not really an embrace. Their straitjackets prevented moving their arms. It was more of an Eskimo kiss between two seals.

“That’s cute,” Willet commented. “It’s good to see you two being friends. Not the combination I would have guessed, but cool nevertheless.”

As Giselle wondered what those words meant, Eight reddened, and another styrofoam bullet hit the floor between their faces.

“Stay still. Don’t move,” a female captor shouted from above, and soon, she stormed into the room holding a load of bondage equipment. First, she went to Hedgehog and hogtied her with a single leather belt. She tied it between the girl’s ankles and straps on her back. To Giselle, it looked tight, but Hedgehog was a lot more flexible than her name suggested.

The woman, dressed in a C-tier wannabe military costume, approached Giselle and Eight, gagging them with black ball gags. “That will keep you little birds quiet for once,” before shoving their bodies next to each other and roping their bound ankles together. The crux of the tie-up followed: one short, thin cord. She tied it to the little lips on the front of the ball gags, making sure the teens always looked at each other and could not separate their mouths any further than a mere foot.

The woman walked away, leaving Willet alone. “Now that’s an addition I can approve,” the commander giggled, implying the guards were having fun with them instead of only punishing them. Giselle ignored her, watching the actress’s subtle facial movements change: confusion, embarrassment, acceptance, and relaxation. Her voice was often so bubbly, as in a sitcom, making Giselle highly aware of who she was dealing with. But now, she convinced Giselle her emotions were genuine. Undecidedness about whether to stare at Giselle combined with awkward, reassuring looks and slowly changing expressions as reality settled in could not be faked. Maybe this movie star was appreciating Giselle’s company. She did not take advantage of her.



The punishment session did not last long, an hour at most, where all captured campers had to deal with a few extra inconveniences. It was still early in the afternoon when the last-added restraints were removed, save the gags, and the campers were thrown in the back of a pick-up truck. It looked rough, all stacked onto each other like pickles in a jar. In reality, the captors prevented their heads from bonking against something hard as there were plenty of pillows and blankets.

With a tarp spanned over the back, the group went for a fifteen-minute off-road drive. The first second, Giselle was scared, but the sluggish pace and Red Deer’s grinning face soothed her. She was adoring the final part of the penalty, and the grunts were more chuckles and surprised gasps than screams. It was soon over, being dropped off at the office’s back to be found and untied by the campers who had survived the slaughter.

Soon, Bull Shark and Macaw, who had been on communication, and Tarantula and Meerkat, who had disobeyed orders and retreated alone during the fight, came to save the tied teens.

“Swift Fox!?” Macaw beamed when she recognized Giselle. “You legend, you absolute mad lad. Holy guacamole.”

“What?” Giselle asked when her gag was removed.

“Don’t be modest, silly. You saved us. You were legendary yesterday,” the excited commander continued, also causing confused faces from Willet, Red, and Eight, who were nearby, watching while bound. “The hostage made it. You secured our primary objective!”

“That’s a surprise,” Giselle gasped, uncaring. “Then she has more than four brain cells. Unexpected. That could have never succeeded.”

[GreyLord]

That was an unexpected twist at the end. Great win! Great story!